


Constants

by SillyKnight



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Cults, Injury, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 00:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14821853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SillyKnight/pseuds/SillyKnight
Summary: “Imbecile,” said Hermann, without much bite.“Thank you!” Newton sighed with relief.or:Some cultists give two emotionally traumatized nerds a chance to talk.





	Constants

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes that I missed while checking the thing. 
> 
> Mako is not a big part of this story, just mentioned a couple of times, but she’s alive and well because I refuse to accept her death as canon.

 Newton’s afternoon started with an explosion.

One that sounded far away, granted, but an explosion none the less. It was the most interesting thing that happened to him since… well. It was the most interesting thing that happened to him that month, that for sure. But Newton was trying to stay away from interesting things at the moment because even if he couldn’t _hear_ the voices in his head they were somehow still there.

Alien possession was interesting, so Newt was trying to avoid interesting things.

See, the thing was.

With interesting stuff.

The thing with interesting stuff was that it tended to rile him up and drive them. Him. Drive him up the walls with questions such as how, and why and what etcetera. The questions multiplied, the answers seemed more and more unsatisfactory and the voices tempted him with promises of knowledge or, worse, berated him and called him an idiot for not understanding the simplest of concepts… which in turn frustrated him because he _had_ to prove the voices wrong. He _had_ to.

Anyway. He was going through a _phase_ or so his therapist said. He was aware he was not fully himself, but there was enough of him to process actions and consequences like a regular human being, but he was not yet processing because… He just couldn’t. Not yet.

It wasn’t denial, it was like he was ripping the page of the notebook as soon as he started writing on it because if he wrote on it he would have to read it and then die in seven days.

Worst analogy ever.

But the thing was that dread had not settled in and he was living in a weird state of apathy because the moment he opened the doors to… oh boy, he was NOT looking forward to that. Fuck what was behind those doors, fuck the notebook.

Fuck.

He was in denial about the denial.

Just thinking about it made him feel like his thoughts were all over the place, even more so than usual. In a way where it was difficult to determine where he started, ended and…

And yes, the explosion.

Focus on the explosion.

His holding cell was soundproof, so hearing anything was… it must have been a _big_ explosion. Good. No. Not good. People could get hurt and he liked people. Well. Maybe not like them, never had all that much really, but he didn’t want harm on anyone. Maybe some? No. No. No one.

Focus.

Newt stood up, unable to keep still, but carrying the book he had been reading. He approached the crystal wall of the cell and pressed the button that would enable the sound to come in. There had been a time during his recovery that too much stimulation of any kind gave him awful migraines and so his cell was quite isolated from the external world. Small mercies.

He couldn’t hear much, however. A cry, someone yelling far, far away. He couldn’t even tell what they were saying. Well. Whatever it was, there was a thick glass (maybe plastic?) separating him from the outside world, so whatever it was couldn’t hurt him.

Unless the ceiling caved in.

He was pretty sure he was underground. He felt like Magneto, except Magneto… Hell, was he Magneto? No. No. He was not Magneto. He did not like chess. He could not move metal with his mind. He had _tried_.

Newton’s cell was in a room that was divided by the thick glass (plastic?) in front of him. On the one hand, Newton’s cell: A bed (more of a cot, really), a desk, some books and notebooks, a few pens and pencils and a screen (Intimacy! Thank God or whoever for small mercies!) that hid the toilet and the small shower. On the other side, a bare room save for two chairs where the PPDC officials that interrogated him sat. Or his therapist. Or his visitors.

He didn’t have many visitors. But they sat there. On those chairs.

Newton had been carrying the book using his finger as the marker on the page so that if someone entered, he could flop down on the bed and pretend he didn’t know what was going on. He had done that a lot as a teenager and he could demonstrate the effectivity of the technique. He didn’t _actually know_ what was going on around him, but still, he felt safer.

Even if he could hear someone running outside, when the door opened it took him by surprise, especially when he saw Hermann barreling in, like a bat out of hell. He forgot about the book and pretending to not know what was happening. Which he _didn’t_.

Herman had some blood on his face. Newt was shocked but managed to raise a hand in greeting. Hermann, the rude asshole, did not acknowledge him. He instead just looked at him and ignored him, like an asshole, grabbing the chairs and barricading the door behind him.

Well, that was weird and interesting, but that was Hermann, and Hermann was weird and interesting so… what he was doing was normal? In a way? Hermann took a moment to collect himself and catch his breath, and looked at the structural integrity of the two chairs holding the door… which looked like it weighed several tons and, now that he thought of it, it slid open so he didn’t know what the chairs were for, other than possibly tripping blind people.

But maybe Hermann felt safer with chairs in front of the door, so he was not going to judge. Not a lot.

Hermann was not turning around.

“Hey,” Newton said impatiently and when Hermann turned he did the worldwide gesture of “what the fuck is going on”  with his arms.

Hermann whirled around and stomped to meet him at the other side of the glass (plastic?) with a scowl. He had a split lip, and some bruising on his cheek bone now that he saw it.

“Do you have anything to do with that?” Said Hermann, rudely, instead of greeting him like a normal person. OR answering his question. Honestly, where were his manners?

“With what?! How!? I was reading!” Newton yelled defensively and held out his book as if it was somehow proof of his good behavior. “What are you going on about, dude?”

Hermann deflated “Forget it. Of course you don’t.”

“Dude, what’s happening? You are bleeding.”

Hermann looked at him confused and then looked at himself, as if for the first time. He brought a hand to his face and touched his split lip, looking at the blood in disgust and wiping it on his lab coat.

“Damn it.” He muttered. Then recovered and looked at Newton again “I was in my lab when an explosion rattled everything, I hit a chair when I fell.”

And then, more gravely, he answered.

“I think that some cultists have broken in the Shatterdome looking for you.”

That was crazy

“That’s crazy”

“Crazy does not even _begin_ to describe the situation, Newton.” He said, looking anxiously at the door.

He sighed.

“We received a video message from their leader earlier, telling us about his intentions. Telling us to surrender you peacefully or face the consequences. The Marshall didn’t take that seriously and… well.”

Newton didn’t care for the Marshall.

“I fucking hate that guy.” He said. They should have made Marshall either Pentecost Junior or the other guy. Newton disliked them on principle, but it wasn’t personal. The Marshall, and he didn’t even bother learning his name, was some old school military dude that had him tied to the chair for weeks. _Weeks_.

And he- Oh. Hermann was still talking.

“-likely dead. After the message, I looked for information about their organization. They think you are their messiah. They want to make you the leader of their church, so you can bring back those monsters.”

“Wait. Wait. Hold up. Who’s likely dead?”

“Marshall Richardson. Were you not listening?” Said Hermann, and it was obvious that the other guy didn’t care for the Marshall either because he was more offended at being ignored than disrespecting a dead guy.

“Yeah yeah. But only the last part.” Newton said. “I mean. Have you told them that those things are out of my head? That I’m just a little bit brainwashed?”

“I was about to send a memo” Said Hermann, distractedly. And wow, he was still not used to the other man making jokes. When had he become such a master of deadpan? Hell, he hated himself a bit for missing years of sarcastic humor. Hermann whipped the blood off of his lip again and grimaced.  “Either way. I don’t think that matters to them.”

Hermann looked at the door. Voices could still be heard.

“So… what are you doing here?”

Hermann had the gall -he had the fucking gall- to look sheepish. “Oh well. I am not of much help out there, am I? I just wanted to make sure they didn’t get here.”

Newton must have not looked all that convinced because Hermann was still justifying his actions.

“Didn’t you hear the explosions a few moments ago? This people are dangerous and they could have hurt you.”

“Oh. Yeah I heard one.” Newton waited for a second “So… If they do get here like. What’s your plan? Are you gonna beat them up with your cane? or do you have some cool toy to stun them or something?”

Hermann looked stricken for a moment, and then avoided his eyes.

Hermann _fucking_ Gottlieb.

“Holy shit, you have nothing with you! You were going to beat them up with your cane! What were you thinking?”

And that was one role reversal he was not happy to be a part of. He was used to being the reckless one, for God’s sake!

“Forgive me if I panicked in a moment of total and utter chaos, I merely wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t really have time to think or grab any cool toy as you so eloquently put it!”

He said, indignantly, trying to justify himself. And yeah, Newt got that.

“So, you getting me out or what?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You can open the cell, right? You have access.” Newton said, “So the way I see this, in case those nut cases get here, you get me out and we hide somewhere safer.”

Hermann looked at him. “Newton, I think your cell is as safe as it gets. There’s nowhere safer. They said they had a way of opening it and that's just preposterous, I assure you, but… They put the bomb close to the hangar, and only authorized personnel have access there.”

Shit, that meant someone from the Shatterdome was helping the cultists and that also meant they had other information such as where his cell was. So they put the bomb, and while everyone was trying to rescue the injured, they could sneak here and… And what? It’s not as if this door could be opened by anyone other than a handful of people. Maybe some higher ups where involved and it was all a conspiration? To what purpose? What _real_ purpose?

Shit.

That meant they knew where he was.

“They will eventually get here.”

Hermann nodded. "I locked the door, that will keep them for a while."

As if on cue, there was some loud banging at the door and both he and Hermann turned to look at it. Someone shouted something, he didn’t understand what. There was a lot of noise as if someone was pounding it or trying to pry it open.

“I think you should get in here, dude”

“Don’t be absurd. I’m not getting inside your cell.”

“Dude. Hermann, hear me out.”

“Newton. I know you are getting better, and it’s not that I don’t trust you. Or rather, I would like to trust you, but last week you attacked a guard.”

“He tasered me! I was the victim”

“You tried to bite him!”

“Because-!” And then he fell silent.

That was that, wasn’t it? There had been no real because.

One second he had been chatting with the ward that brought him dinner on Wednesdays (lovely dude named Julián) and the next he remembered was an anger he couldn’t control. How the mere existence of Julián pissed him off in a way he couldn’t comprehend and next thing he knew he was lunging himself at poor Julián, who reacted quickly and managed to reduce him before getting hurt. Yes, he could see where Hermann was coming from and yet.

And yet.

And yet-

The noise outside had stopped.

“Hermann. Get in the cell.”

Hermann looked as if he was about to argue, so Newt hurried to talk.

“Dude. The noise outside. It’s stopped. If they have more bombs they are going to try and blow that door and then get in and-“ And if they catch you here and you don’t get killed in the explosion, you are a dead man. They were going to kill Hermann and he will have to watch as they do so and wow. No. Nope. Just no.

Luckily, Hermann was a quick man. Good reaction times, especially in times of crisis. When he realized Newton was right he fumbled with his access pass and the multiple scans. The last was a retina-scan. Hermann hesitated and looked at him, his expression hard to read.

“Step away from here.”

Newton got confused for a second but then backed away as fast as he could from the door and into his cell. He didn’t have time to be hurt.

This is how things went. This is what Newton saw.

Hermann did the retina scan and opened the door to the cell, stepping inside more or less at the same time that an explosion rattled the room. He did not see the explosion because he was looking at Hermann, who was thrown like a ragdoll and smashed his head against the door and fell to the floor, unmoving. His body keeping the door open.

There Newton was, with the following dilemma.

Hermann was unconscious and bleeding on the floor. The door to the cell was open, as was the door to the room and the outside world. He had a bunch of people willing to take him away from the PPDC, the claustrophobic cell and his so-called friends who didn’t trust him. He could step over Hermann and leave and not look back.

And bring back the Kaiju. He liked the Kaiju better than people. Maybe. No. He didn’t. He didn’t like the Kaiju. Not much, anyway.  But they were an option. Just like people.

Options.

Stepping over Hermann and exiting the room to his freedom would be laughably easy. Bringing the Kaiju back doubly so. Three people entered the room. The tall dude and the short woman wore J-Tech uniforms. The other, shorter dude, was wearing a lab coat.

The tall dude looked at him and smiled, relief in his face.

“My lord, when Gottlieb disappeared we thought it would be a problem to take you out of here, but the Gods are smiling upon us today. We are here to rescue you, to bring back the Gods wrath upon this planet.”  

Newton did the only thing he could do.

He stepped over Hermann.

He grabbed him and pulled him inside the cell.

He closed the door.

He noticed the smiles freezing on the cultist's faces. He leaned over Hermann, took his cane and rested it against the desk, and then turned his friend around. The other scientist was unconscious, and there was a big gash on his temple that was bleeding a lot and would probably need stitches. He grimaced and checked the pupils. He didn’t have a flashlight, but there seemed to be no sign of a concussion.

“Sir we are the followers of-“.  One of the other cultists said, and Newton ignored him. The man began talking, but Newton tuned him out, focusing instead on getting Hermann on the bed. And looking for something to patch the man up, at least until those crazy assholes were out of the picture and he could get medical help.

Getting Hermann on the bed wasn’t as simple as he had thought. The other man was a stick but still managed to be heavy and taller than him. So lifting him bodily was more complicated than he thought, but managed it none the less. Once on the bed, he took his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt, just the top buttons, to facilitate breathing.

He took one of his clean undershirts and went into the bathroom area to get it wet and clean the wound a bit. When he returned he saw the tall guy still talking. He hadn’t listened to a single word.

“Are you still talking? How are you still talking? Dude, read the room.”

That shut the guy up. But nor for long.

“Sir. We came here for you. We can get you out of here! We can please the gods once again by-”

“OH, MY GOD!” Newton screamed, turning around in a flash and waving his arms around “How much of a fucking lunatic are you? Huh? How can you say those bullshit words and believe them! That’s the worst! I could. You know. If you took me out of here I would step out and bring the apocalypse once and for all, but I don’t fucking want to even if I want to. Because that’s not me talking. The part of me that wants to destroy every single one of you was being controlled by fucking aliens. How can you wake up in the morning, look at the sky and say “Yeah, I want to fuck this up for everybody?” How!? Because I did so for ten years and I fucking hate myself for that. Even if it wasn’t me. I have an excuse! I have alien psychos in my brain! What’s fucking yours, dude? What’s your fucking excuse for wanting to destroy the planet.”

The other man opened his mouth, he just stopped him. He saw the conviction in the man’s eyes, he saw determination. If he stepped out of that cage, and he was sure of it, he would add him to his death toll because he would gut him like a fish and watch him bleed.

Newton shook his head, suddenly tired.

“No. No. I can’t deal with you and with a cranky German at the same time. Fuck off and leave me alone. Leave us alone!”

He said and disconnected the sound. The lips of the man moved, but no sound arrived.

“Fuck off” he mouthed, for good measure, at the stunned face of the leader. The man was speaking again, but he couldn’t hear a word. He heard nothing. He tapped at his ears and shrugged.

It had been right. It had _felt_ right. Yelling at someone who deserved it, for a change. Usually, he screamed at Hermann, out of habit and because he didn’t know how not to push the other man’s buttons because Newton was a lot of things, but petty asshole was right there on the top.

 And Hermann had been the one to push for his recovery. Had annoyed and pissed off the fucking world to save him. He pushed for him to be put in a cell, and then for him to be able to get visitors outside from PPDC personnel. He had read to him and kept him company. Hell, he had designed the safety protocols of the door himself so that no one could get to him.

He was also the one that didn’t notice anything wrong with him for ten years.

Granted, Newton didn’t notice much wrong during that time either. Just the negative feelings, hating shit that he used to love… And didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. Pushing everything and everyone aside. Hating. Just... hating. 

He was so tired of hating. 

He knew intellectually that Hermann didn’t deserve that much shit thrown at him, so yeah. He would try not to yell at him as much. Maybe. But he couldn’t help but hate him a bit as well because he should have realized something was wrong. He should have helped him sooner. Better.

But no.

He was angry, he was pissed and mad at Hermann.

And the other man just took it.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? That Newton yelled and ranted at Hermann and insulted him and his intelligence and his clothes and his haircut and Hermann just took it. Years ago he would have moped the floor with Newton or given as good as it got. It pissed him off so much that the fight had left the other man that he couldn’t help the anger that boiled inside him when he saw Hermann walk into the room and sit down with books for him. Or comics. His fucking favorite comics. What an asshole.

Well, maybe the knock on the head would provoke him amnesia and he would be the same man he was 10 years ago. Insulting, biting and angry.

And maybe then Newton would be able to forgive him.

Maybe Hermann saw his anger and hate and was nice to him in an attempt to soothe him. To calm him down.

He should… he should not be as angry. Or at least try and be nicer to him too. Show some goodwill. Stop snapping at him for nimieties, at least.

Newton closed his eyes.

The silence was so total and involving that he started badly when Hemann spoke.

“Not the most inspired of speeches, but I think you got your point across.” He said, barely a whisper but to Newton, it seemed louder than the previous bomb.

“Shut up.” He spat and turned around.

So much for being nicer to Hermann, genius.

Hermann was lying on his back but was looking at him with something akin to concern. Newton had only tried to attack him once… well, succeeded to attack him once. But that had been then, and this was now and it hurt a bit that Hermann thought he would hurt him, _especially_ after saving his life.

No. Wait.

He was looking past him.

He was looking at the cultists.

“Is that Henry?” Hermann asked, looking at the guy in the lab coat. “He works with me. A bit of a twat, mind you, but makes decent coffee. I can’t believe he’s with these nutcases.” He explained to Newton when he realized his gaze was on him. He was still lying there, eyes slightly out of focus.

Newton turned around and saw them trying to open the door. They couldn’t blow it up without risking him getting killed, and they couldn’t open it because on top of the biometric scans there were passwords and booby-traps that would just make it harder to open. Like a bunch of idiots could bi-pass something coded by Hermann Gottlieb. Ha!

_Henry_ was working with a computer on one of the panels but was not having any luck with it. No one other than Hermann, Mako, Pentecost Junior and the other could open it.

“He asked for my help in one of the lower level labs!” Hermann said, surprised “But I wanted to investigate the cult so I pretended to forget.” He frowned “I guess this is why he was so insistent. Huh.” 

And yeah, Newton could see the situation. And the gun under _Henry’s coat._ And, seriously, since when is Hermann on a first name basis with _anyone_. He still called Mako by her full title! If someone should call Mako by her full title that should be him, the one that tried to kill her. But no, she was still Mako. Not to Hermann, though. But _Henry_   was  _Henry_ apparently.

Newton had enough. He approached the bed, determined.

“Scoot” he ordered.

Hermann frowned but did so without putting a fight. Newton laid on the cot on his side, beside Hermann, effectively blocking his view and giving the room his back. He didn’t have much room so his ass was hanging over the edge, but the two could more or less fit in there.

He held his head with one hand while he cleaned the wound on Hermann’s with the other. Hermann had bled on his sheets and that was problematic because there would be no laundry for a few days yet and he didn’t want to sleep on Hermann’s blood.

Ugh. That was disgusting.  

“I bled on your sheets,” Hermann said, observationally. Eyes perhaps more focused, but distant. He looked tired.

“Yes. Don’t worry.” See? He could be nice when he tried. And then he added, “I will make you clean them later.” Damn.

Hermann just nodded and grimaced as Newton cleaned the wound and his face maybe with a little more force than absolutely necessary. He didn’t protest, he didn’t complain. He was trying to look over Newton’s body to watch the cultists. Newton pressed his head to the mattress.

“Stop it. And since when are you on a first name basis with a cultist?”

“I’m not on a first name basis with a cultist!”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me, using his first name and shit.”

Hermann closed his eyes as if trying to avoid looking at the stupidity in front of him. It was the first annoyed look he had gotten from him in a while. Not counting today, obviously. Today was a special day with bombs and stuff. “I’m hardly going to bother with honorifics with the man trying to kidnap you!”

Hermann said, and it made sense and it made Newton angry and embarrassed that he had been jealous of Hermann calling someone he didn’t know existed by his name. So he did what he did best.

“This reminds me of the time you tripped and got concussed in the lab and I had to carry you to medical.” Distraction technique. Hell yeah.

“No, I don’t remember that.”

And that made Newton stop because wow, that was scary. He didn’t remember. Maybe the blow to the head had been worse than Newt previously thought. He left the soaked shirt on the floor and tried to pry open his friend’s eyes. Hermann batted his hand away and looked at him indignantly.

“Dude, your head-“

“I don’t remember that because that’s not what happened.” Said Hermann, with a frown. “You threw Kaiju guts on my side of the lab, I slipped on them and-“

“and then I had to carry you to medical because you had a concussion. And I clearly remember that you didn’t speak to me for a week, not even to thank me.”

Herman scoffed.

“Oh please! You panicked so hard you just picked me up and run over there!”

“Heroically! And I-”

“You were careless! You made me hit my head with the door on the way there so hard that _that_ gave me the concussion! I didn’t even hit my head when I fell on the lab. And you didn’t even _get_ me to medical. You pulled your back on the way there and fell on top of me! And-”

"Shhh, you don't know what you are saying" Newton put his hand on Herman’s face to try and stop him from talking because yeah. That had happened, that and also-

“And!” Hermann said, angrily, while batting Newt’s hand away in annoyance “When that technician found us, he got _me_ to the lab thinking you had attacked me and left you there on the floor. It was humiliating!”

“How was that humiliating for you? I had to crawl to medical!”

“Good. You deserved it for not listening when I told you I was okay and instead blowing the whole thing out of proportion!”

Newton was going to add something but then Hermann groaned in pain and tried to touch his head, Newt batted the hand away.

“Stop it, you will get the wound infected and I just cleaned it. I had to use my only pair of clean underwear to do so, so you can thank me later.”

Hermann looked at him, panicked. Newton laughed for the first time.

“Don’t worry, I used an old shirt.”

Hermann nodded and tried to stand. Since when was the man such a pain in the ass? Couldn’t he just lie still? Newton pushed him back to the mattress and then craned his neck to look if the cultists were trying to blow open his door or what. He had almost forgotten about them. However, when he turned around he realized they were gone.

There was a body on the floor, Henry’s, and an armed guard outside was saying something to him. Newt tapped at his ear and shrugged, then he ignored him and turned to Hermann.

“The cultists are gone.” He said. And omitted the part of the body lying in his cell because… well. Because.

“Really?”

“Yeah, they must’ve realized their messiah was an asshole.”

Hermann snorted. Newt smiled.

“Nah, the cavalry is here. There’s a guard outside.”

“He won’t be able to open the cell. Secretary-General Mori is out of the country and the Rangers will be busy regrouping after the attack.” Hermann said, smile falling from his face. “I’m pretty much stuck here until one of them comes. And it will take hours to get the door open.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

Newton laid down, still on his side, face so close to the top of Hermann’s head he could practically smell the shampoo of the other man. He had a confession to make and he couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Sometimes I still wish I had strangled you.”

He said, and Hermann tensed but didn’t move.

Wait, that came out wrong.

“What I mean. Is that at first I wanted you dead all the time, and now it’s only occasionally. Well. It wasn’t me, it was them. But I couldn’t tell the difference for a while. And I can tell the difference. Now, I mean. I can tell when it’s them and when it’s me, and the me part doesn’t want to see you dead. I know and see that I am getting better, but sometimes I still wish I had strangled you and that makes me worry that I will never stop and never get better.”

Silence again. Newton pocked at Hermann.

“Say something.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Newton groaned and put his face on Hermann’s hair in frustration. Oh wow. So that’s what non-violent, non-medical human contact felt like. He had totally forgotten. He pulled his face away.

“That’s the thing! I don’t want you to tell me what I want to hear! I want you to… to be you! To yell at me! To call me crazy, to damn me to hell! But you just stay here. Quiet, and say positive shit like… like some goddamned therapist and not like… like my friend.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better I will call you a bloody idiot more often.”

“AUUUGH!”

Newt yelled, pulling at his face in frustration.

“I don’t want you to fucking insult me because I told you so! I want you to insult me because you want to! I want you to be you goddamit!”

“Well, if it helps I really want to insult you right now.”

“It does help!” He screamed sincerely.

“Imbecile,” said Hermann, without much bite.

“Thank you!” Newton sighed with relief.

They laid there in silence until Newt heard the thuds and turned around. The ward was yelling something and pointing at them. Since Newt was still obscuring most of Hermann’s body…

“Hermann, give the good man a sign that you are alive.”

Hermann gave him a thumbs up. An honest to God thumbs up. Surreal.

But the ward seemed to calm down and returned the thumbs up while talking to his radio and then fumbled with the door. Yeah, good luck with that.

“I won’t-“ Hermann said, and Newt turned to look at him. “I don’t. I’m not trying to patronize you. I just don’t know how to talk to you anymore.”

Wow. He was not expecting that sort of confession. Hermann stopped as if he had finished talking.

“No, no. Go on. I want to hear this.” he said, fascinated. And laid down, because it would be easier if both men could hide their faces.

Hermann sighed.

“Newton, for 5 years you were the only constant in my life. And for longer than that even. But I could be the worst person in the world to you and you would be there the next day and you could do the same to me and I didn’t realize this until later. But I had the… I didn’t think of a future where you were not in it. Not even in a romantic sense, maybe not even together in the same country. But with you.”

Newton’s mind was, for once. Blank. He simply stared at the top of Hermann’s head.

“And then it was the future and you left. Now I know why you left, but for ten years I was just. I called you, and you didn’t return my calls, or e-mails or texts and I just. I let it happen. I didn’t fight for you and maybe if I had… I don’t know. Tried harder? This whole thing could have been avoided. And I know you are mad at me, and don't like me visiting, but I have the feeling that if I stop trying to reach you now, you will get hurt again and I can't let that happen.”

And wow, that was a kick in the guts for Newton because, yes. He did blame Hermann, but he didn’t want Hermann to blame himself… if that made any sense. Hell, he knew he shouldn’t blame Hermann either, because it was really, _really_ not his fault, any of it. But most of all, he was mad at himself for letting that part show. For making Hermann feel like that. For making him feel like it was his fault. _For making him lonely_.

“Shit man, I don’t blame you for what happened”

Hermann craned his neck and looked at him with a scowl on his face. He was such a bad liar without the Precursors in his head.

“I mean” He tried to amend “I do blame you, but I shouldn’t. I’m still fucked over the whole thing and you are an easy target because you are also a constant in my life that won’t go away. And I don’t want you to go away, because even if I blame you (which I shouldn’t) I _know_ you are not responsible for what happened to me. So I am mad at me, and I am not ready to face _that_ level of mad at myself right now and I take it out on you. If that makes any sense.”

“I must have hit my head harder than I thought because it did make sense,” Hermann said.

They fell in silence once again, not sure of what to say after that. Newton had also thought of Hermann as a constant, up until he hadn’t, but even then the other man had called occasionally and texted and… even now. He didn’t know what he was going to do after recovering. He didn’t know where he was going to live (if he would be allowed to live? They said they wouldn’t judge him for crimes against humanity but… Well. He didn’t trust them much.) or what he was going to do (He doubted he would be allowed anywhere near a lab again)…

But he hadn’t stopped long enough in any of those scenarios. However, in each and every one Hermann had been there. Even in the one where they sentenced him to death, he had been the one to push the button and yeah, maybe the wrong sentiment, but he was still there.

Maybe. Maybe when the guilt the other man was experiencing faded away and Newton was well again… Maybe then Hermann would leave him for good. Not with an argument, but with a “see you soon” and then fading away and they would send each other a postcard for their birthdays and, honestly, who even does that anymore? But yeah. Limited contact and promises of “catching up soon” that wouldn’t be fulfilled.

No. Nonononono. No. He was not going to go through _that_.

Newton hid his face again and closed his eyes.

“I think I am going to be pretty fucked up for a while. Like. Worse than now.” He confessed.

“Yes.”

“And I will give you a lot of shit. And everyone. It’s not personal, but to us it is.”

“Yes.”

“But after that… After that, I would like to be friends again.”

“…Yes.”

“And maybe even more? I think I would like that.”

“I would like that too.”

“But right now I’m not ready.”

“Me either.”

“So, let’s try to get used to each other again? And let’s not be _total_ dicks to ourselves and to each other, maybe?”

“You are more of a dick to me that I am to you. I am being very nice to you.”

“You are a dick because you act like I’m going to break if you so much as raise your voice. So stop that. We had an argument five minutes ago! It was a good argument. I didn’t break and tried to strangle you or anything. Let’s repeat it sometime.”

“I will try. If I am honest being nice to you was getting tiresome.”

“Good.”

And then, because Hermann was an asshole that couldn’t read the importance of the moment he said:

“And take more showers. You reek.”

Newton stood on his elbow and looked at him, his face was totally serious. He _was_ being serious. That asshole.

“It’s not like I was expecting visitors!”

 “Still. Hygiene habits are important no matter the circumstances.”

“Fuck you”

He added and fell to the bed again, cushioning his head on his arm and using the other to hug Hermann.

“What are you doing?” Said the other man, without much of an alarm.

“I am cuddling you. Because we just made up and took big steps in out relationship like the big boys we are and, most importantly, because I am _starved_ for human contact and you can’t go anywhere and we both could use some sleep.”

“They will come and get me out of here eventually.”

“But that won’t be for a few more hours.”

Hermann fumbled for a moment, and Newton panicked for a second thinking he was trying to leave, but he was just getting himself more comfortable. Hermann awkwardly grabbed the hand Newton was using to cuddle him, but he didn’t take it away either. He simply held it.

In a few hours, someone was going to manage to unlock the door. Then, they would have to work hard, to forgive, to try and forget and to face their lives head-on. Enough hiding.

But until then… Until then they could sleep.  

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun playing with the characters and writing Newt's internal monologue/ramblings. I hope it was fun to read as well.


End file.
